


Knowing None of It Matters

by morethanjustpretty



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Resolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 07:54:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8278456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morethanjustpretty/pseuds/morethanjustpretty
Summary: A dark fic where Jon deals with the aftermath of coming back to life.  Written for a prompt.





	

“Jon’s different,” Arya said one night as she watched her brother drink cup after cup of ale with the Wildlings and others.

“He’s our King of the North,” Sansa said, knowing Arya was speaking about more.

“He’s sad,” Arya said softly.

“Jon’s always been…”

“In a darker, more profound way,” Arya said. “Like a man facing his doom.”

Sansa put down her fork and turned to look at her sister more carefully.

“Has he told you about being killed by his own men, about dying, about coming back?” Sansa asked.

“No, he hasn’t wanted to talk about it,” Arya said.

“Well, he’s told me,” Sansa said softly. “His own men betrayed him. In the worst sort of way. And when he was dead…there was nothing. No heaven, no paradise filled with loved ones waiting for you who had already died. Nothing. Then a witch raises him from the dead, placing gods knows what sort of incantations on his spirit…Jon is Jon but he’s also not Jon anymore.”

“Not Jon?” Arya asked, thinking of old stories of witches.

“He knows no matter what he does, how good or bad he is in this life that there is no reward or punishment afterwards,” Sansa said. “There’s a certain amount of freedom to…”

“Do whatever the hell you want,” Arya interrupted.

“Well, yes,” Sansa agreed as her cheeks flushed. “But there’s also this knowledge that you aren’t meant to be alive so whatever you do is not supposed to happen.”

“What?” Arya asked.

“Jon knows he’s altering the world we live in by his actions and whether those are good or dire changes, only time will tell, he also knows that in the end, evil doesn’t get punished and good doesn’t get rewarded…that sits heavily with him.”

“Oh,” Arya said softly.

“Which is why he’s Jon, but also not Jon,” Sansa said as she watched him start to say goodnight to all of the men. “But he’s still our Jon, and we need to help him and support him in whatever way he needs us.”

“And he’s told you all this?” Arya asked, intrigued.

“He and I talk,” Sansa said as she rose from her chair. “Goodnight Arya.”

Arya looked at her sister strangely but said nothing. She seemed in a hurry to get somewhere.

Sansa walked quickly though the hall to her rooms and was almost at the door when she heard him behind her. 

“Sansa, please,” Jon slurred as he walked toward her. 

She turned and looked at his drunken state and knew exactly what he was asking for.

“Jon, you should just go to bed,” she said as she watched him approach.

“I need you,” Jon said as he placed a hand on her hip and leaned in to kiss her neck.

“You always need me when you’re drunk,” Sansa said, unmoving.

“You help me,” Jon said as he continued to kiss her neck.

“I help you feel good in the dark and feel guilty in the light,” Sansa clarified.

“I don’t care about the light,” Jon said as he cupped her breast and started to massage it. “Let’s live in the dark always, you and I.”

Sansa couldn’t help but chuckle; only a drunken state would allow this logic. He’d come to her the night they’d won back Winterfell, he was drunk and she was so shocked by his behavior that the act was over before she even got her head around it. 

He apologized and stayed away from her for weeks, but when Arya returned he couldn’t stay away any longer without everyone noticing. So life fell into an odd pattern with him. When he drank with his men he always came to her. But only at night, in the dark. If she was in her room with the door barred he went away, probably to fuck some house maid, she never asked. 

But, if he got to her before then…sometimes it was in the hallway, sometimes her bed, once in a stable, mostly against a wall…they fucked. There was no romance, no love, no gentleness. She knew it was wrong, and if she was more forceful he’d go away, but, she didn’t. Sansa wasn’t sure why. She was sure even Jon wasn’t sure why. 

Sansa felt his rough hand move up her dress and pull at her small clothes. Tonight it was the hallway. He pushed his hard member inside her and rutted up into her as her back rubbed against the stone wall behind her. His rough hands held her hips, hers held his shoulders and he grunted against her neck.

She felt heat rising in her loins but she never got any satisfaction because Jon always came before she got to her joy. She heard him gasp and felt his hot seed flow into her and stick to her. He pulled his member out swiftly and tucked himself back into his pants before he reached behind her and opened the door to her room for her. 

“Goodnight Sansa,” he said as he placed a slobbery kiss on her lips before he staggered off down the hallway towards his rooms where he would pass out.

Sansa lowered her skirts and stepped into her chambers already feeling his seed starts to ooze out of her.

“Jon’s not the only person who’s not them self anymore,” Sansa mumbled to herself as she shut her door.


End file.
